


Father's Day

by acruska



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Family, NYC!Rachel, post-Military!Puck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acruska/pseuds/acruska
Summary: Once upon a time, Noah found a way to make Bekah feel better on her school's Father's Day celebration. Many years later he gets a phone call that could reconnect him with his daughter, thanks to a promise Rachel got her mother to make.
Relationships: Beth Corcoran & Noah Puckerman, Rachel Berry/Noah Puckerman
Comments: 19
Kudos: 41





	1. 1

She got the message on a Monday. 

Apparently it was left Thursday afternoon, but it was just one of the many many messages that her fans left for her every day and it took a while to get through all of them. After last year, when she finally got her break-out role of Belle in an off-Broadway production of Beauty and the Beast, she was, well, maybe not exactly famous, but certainly well-known enough to be recognizable. This year she starred in her very own Tony-winning musical, getting some positive reviews, and was dubbed the Broadway discovery of the year. She still wasn’t used to how popular she became and the fan-mail was just one of the many things she had never really considered when she planned her road to Broadway stardom. Her mail was always screened by her agent and the people working for her agent: love letters, hate letters, perv letters and downright creepy letters - most of them never really got to her.

She may not read all her letters, but her mail _ was _monitored and someone read the message on a Friday and decided to pass it on, it could actually be important. But her agent Tom never dealt with anything non-urgent on the weekends - with how hectic life on Broadway could be everyone needed rules like that to keep some semblance of a work-life balance - and didn’t get to it until Monday, when he forwarded to his client a short e-mail from one Shelby Corcoran:

“Hi, Rachel. I have no idea if this will ever reach you, but I’m trying. I don’t have you current phone number, or Puck’s, but I promised, so I’m doing my best.

Beth’s school has a Father’s Day celebration next Saturday. I’m not getting her hopes up, I have no idea if you could reach him on time, or if he would be interested, but just so that you know, I think she’d love for him to come. Call me if you find him.”

She stared at the message for a moment, not really getting why her biological _ mother _ would contact her after years of complete radio-silence to tell her about her other daughter, the one who had replaced her, having a _ father _’s day celebration.

And then it clicked and Rachel reached for her phone.

Getting on the glee vine was actually nice, if not very effective. Through time, distance, new friendships and the new lives they built - they’ve grown apart. She kept more or less in touch with a few of them, but even that was usually limited to a couple of phone-calls a year, for birthdays, major holidays and such. 

So when she reached for her phone Monday afternoon she learned that Kurt and Blaine finally adopted a boy, and were currently completely cut off from social life by an impenetrable wall of nappies and formulas. She promised to visit them soon to meet little Jimmy. Mike and Tina were still touring Europe with Mike’s dance group. She’d known Artie was making progress as an up-and-coming young director, shamelessly milking the discapable card for all it was worth, but she had no idea he just got engaged to a nice girl he met on set. Santana and Britt were living in Philadelphia, where San was a cutthroat lawyer fighting work-place discrimination. Britt was a housewife, even though she still couldn’t really cook anything without putting the house on fire. It didn’t matter though, because they could afford any kind of fancy take-out they wanted, and her wife loved her anyway.

Catching up with all of her high school friends was fun, if more than a little nostalgic, but no one had any idea how to contact Puck. Sam was the closest to giving her a lead, when she called him late on Tuesday afternoon (she got his number from Mike, who she was able to contact thanks to Tina), he told her of a bar in LA where Noah found a job bartending straight after leaving the army. 

She called immediately and a grumpy voice picked up after the fourth ring only to inform her that no, Noah Puckerman does not work there anymore, which is a shame, ‘cause he always got the ladies to visit and a bar where a lot of chicks is known to get drinks can’t help but do well. But Puckerman still steps by from time to time, sings and plays and such, live music is good for business. No, he doesn't have a phone number, what does she think he is, a phonebook?

Rachel stared at her phone, out of ideas who to call next. She felt like a failure, what was it worth that she got her birth-mother to make this promise, if she, Rachel, completely failed as a friend and allowed them to lose contact so completely she couldn’t reach him if she tried? And she _ tried _, she tried everyone.

It got her thinking about the time she called Shelby to get this promise, and what brought her to do it. How he looked that morning on her doorstep, his eyes pleading, and how he looked when he left many hours later - how she imagined he could look many _ years _later. Would she even recognize him now, after six years? She may have created a stage make-up version of aged-up Noah - one she was really proud of - but she had no way to know if it was accurate. Not to mention he was still many years away from the daddy-like version she turned him into that afternoon.

It got her thinking - there was one more link she hadn’t tried yet. Actually, that was pretty stupid of her, it should have been the first place she called. She reached for the phone and dialed the number she had memorized since she was seven years old - the landline of the Puckerman household.

\- Speak for the Puckerladies - she heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line. Bekah sounded older, obviously, but there was something so very _ Bekah _ about her that Rachel could feel her heart clenching. She almost forgot how much she missed her borrowed little sister.

\- Hi, Bekah, it’s Rachel. How are you doing?

\- Racheeeee - Bekah scream was on the border of discernable for human ear. - I thought you forgot me!

\- You know I would never! I missed you! I’m just so busy all the time, I haven’t been home in _ forever _!

\- Don’t bullshit me, Rachee, I know there’s just nothing for you in Lima anymore. I understand. Just thought you could have called from time to time.

\- I could have and I should have. I am really sorry Bekah. But I promise I’ll be better about keeping in touch.

\- Good. I was kind of afraid that it was because of my jerk-off of an older brother. 

\- Bekah, language!

\- Noah taught me those words, so I it’s only fair I use them for him. It’s called karma, Rachee.

\- I’m not quite sure that’s how karma works. Speaking of which, did you hear from you brother?

\- Jake’s in Chicago, he was doing okay last I heard.

\- Not the brother I meant and you know it.

\- What’s it to you? I thought Noah broke all contact with you guys?

\- He did, and that’s why I’m calling you - part of why I’m calling you, I really missed you, Bekah. But I’ve got a message for Noah and nobody knows how to reach him. 

There was a bit of silence before Bekah answered with a sigh:

\- I may know how to contact him. But he asked me not to give this number to anyone, he wants to be left alone. 

\- I really think he might want to hear what I have to say - Rachel argued, but she could tell the younger girl was not convinced. - Bekah, it’s about Beth.

\- Did something happen?

\- No, no, don’t worry. But you know that Noah always wanted to be a part of her life.

\- It was supposed to be for emergencies, you know. But I guess everything to do with Beth counts as emergency with my idiot of a brother. Do you have something to write down the number?

Which is how on a Tuesday evening Rachel Berry, the rising star of Broadway, found herself sitting in her shoebox apartment, staring at a piece of paper, trying to find the courage to actually call the number it took her two days to get.


	2. 2

Noah Puckerman had a pretty ordinary Tuesday, all things considered. He woke at eight, got up, took na shower, ate breakfast and left for work. He reached the store at quarter to ten, which allowed him the time for a quick look through the inventory before he had to open. He had three lessons this afternoon, all of them high school boys eager to impress the girls with their crazy guitar skills. He found it kind of funny to watch those kids with their instruments and their leather and their cussing. Sometimes he was tempted to give them tips on the art of badassary, but usually he remembered on time that his own brand of it was really fucking dumb. 

He closed shop at seven, got home, cooked himself dinner and sat down with a coke looking for a match on TV. Which is when his phone rang, something that was totally  _ not normal.  _ His phone never rung, there just wasn't anyone who could call him. He had cut himself off from everyone, and he was happy alone. No dumb-ass expectation to  _ not  _ live up to, that way.

\- Who is this? - he started, his voice less than friendly, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know the number (New York area code, he would never admit it made his heart clench a bit) and nobody was supposed to be able to reach him here. Unless something happened to Bekah.  _ Shit _ . Now his heart wasn’t clenching, it was damn near to stopping.

\- Noah? - It was Rachel, Rachel  _ fucking _ Berry, the rising star of Broadway, calling him on his super secret phone. - I’m sorry to bother you, I know you don’t want to be bothered. It was pretty hard to get this number, you know, nobody seems to know what’s going on with you and I… - She wasn’t likely to stop on her own, so he did it for her.

\- Rachel. How the hell did you get this number?

\- I called Bekah. - She sounded unsure. - Please, don’t be angry with her, she really didn’t want to give it up, but…

He tuned her out. So it  _ was  _ Bekah. Luckily she was not in trouble - well, not yet. Should have known, though, they were always thick as thieves, those two. 

\- Okay, so you got my sister to give up a number I specifically told her  _ not to  _ give to any of gleeks. What I want to know is why.

\- I got an email from Shelby.

Now his heart  _ did _ stop for real.

\- No, don’t worry, everything’s okay, I promise. - He let out a breath. - They are having a father’s day in Beth’s school and Shelby wanted me to let you know. That’s all.

It’s been almost three years since he got any news of Beth. Shelby was still sending him pictures and updates when he enlisted, but he kept getting cut off from the web and wasn’t that great about checking his inbox. When he didn’t answer a bunch of her e-mails she just stopped sending them. He wrote to her when he got back, but her address wasn’t working anymore. One night, in a fit of drunken rage, he deleted his own account, his only hope of ever hearing from his daughter again. But now Rachel  _ fucking _ Berry was calling him about a schoool’s Father’s Day, of all things.

\- Why now?

It was Rachel’s time to sigh. 

\- I kind of made her promise, years ago. Didn’t think about it until I received her message.

\- You made her promise? Of all the things you could have made her promise?

\- Do you remember the Father's Day celebration in Bekah’s school when she was eight or nine, I think. It was our senior year.

\- Yeah, sure. Wanted to borrow one of your dads, but they couldn’t, and Bekah threw a fit that she didn’t want a borrowed dad, she wanted her own. It was starting to become a major clusterfuck when Sam asked if _ her own brother _ would do. You and Sammy made me look like a total DILF.

\- DILF?

\- Same as MILF only for dads.

\- God, you really don’t change. - He could totally hear the eyeroll. - But that’s the day I’m talking about. I’ve seen much the absence of a father bothered Bekah and how much you wanted to be there for her, so I called Shelby. I made her promise that when something like that was happening in Beth’s school she’d call you. Of course Beth was two and anything connected to school seemed pretty abstract.

It was really a lot to swallow. He kind of forgotten about this day, a day when life was shit and he and Bekah didn’t have a dad but they had each other, and they had good friends and somehow it was enough. When all her friends were boasting about how they would come with their dads to the school’s father’s day, he knew Bekah was really hurt she had nobody to show off, to be proud of - and he felt completely helpless. He really hated that his moron of the father was still hurting his little sister even though he’s been gone since before she was born.  _ Nobody  _ hurt Puck’s little sister. But it seemed like there was nothing he could do for her, at least until Sam came up with the idea to make a dad out of Puck (there were a lot of jokes to be had about how Quinn has already done that, but the subject was still painful and nobody dared to go there). So he spent a morning at Rachel’s and by the afternoon he looked at least forty (but still a stud, of course) and was ready to charm the panties off of all the mothers of Bekah’s friends (he really hoped that some of them would be cougars and he’d get to really charm their panties off). Rachel created him a story, a good one, in which he was a musician on tour, mildly successful, not really in a position to visit his kids as often as he’d like to, but trying to be as present in their lives as he could. It helped that he was doing most of the raising of his sister and didn’t need pointers on who was the class queen, who was a geek and which teacher was a total hard-ass. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t wonder if he could ever do the same for Beth.

Those were good times. Simple. Though none of their 18-year old selves would believe this then.

\- Noah? Please don’t be mad. I’m really sorry for meddling. I probably shouldn’t have called. You clearly didn’t want to be found. I’m so sorry. I’ll hang up now, I’ll lose the phone number, I promise. I..

\- Rachel? - He broke her off again. He couldn’t help it, the girl had a tendency to rant. - Thank you. And don't lose the number.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puck again, so you know - potty mouth.

He waited until the next afternoon to call Shelby. He needed to be sure everything was set up and nothing could possibly stop him from seeing his daughter before he told her that he was coming.

So he booked plane tickets - Friday afternoon with return Sunday evening, he wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible in one weekend - he discussed the changes to the shop's opening hours with his part-time employee and cancelled his Friday and Saturday lessons. He hated doing it, not just because it cost him his income and set a bad example. His Saturday kids were different from his after-school kids. They were the dreamers, learning to play the guitar not to impress anybody but to achieve something. He promised himself he'd do anything to help them and cancelling on them didn't sit right with him - but his own kid came first.

So on Wednesday afternoon, with his itinerary ready and his affairs sorted for the weekend, he finally called Shelby Corcoran, a woman he didn't speak since they had sex and it almost cost her her career, a woman who was raising his daughter.

She didn’t pick up.

\- Uh, hello, this is Noah Puckerman, I’m…, well, I guess you know who I am - he told her voice mail after the tone. - You send me a message through Rachel Berry. I just wanted you to know that I’m coming, I already have the tickets and all. Please call me back when you get this.

He felt like an idiot, leaving voice messages for someone he still wasn’t quite sure wanted to hear from him. What if all of this was a joke, or a set-up. Not Rachel’s, Rachel would never do something like that, not with Beth, but really, it could have been anyone sending this email to her fan-mail account. What if it wasn’t real and he would never see his daughter again?

It was real, and Shelby called him back the same evening, after she put Beth to sleep. She apologized for not getting his call, she was picking the kid up from school and didn’t hear her phone ring. She was as non-nonsense as always: asked him about his itinerary, gave the school address and invited him to join them for breakfast.

\- I think it would be best, Puck, if Beth had a chance to get used to you  _ before _ we face the entire school. She’s quite excited about the possibility of meeting you but I really can’t guess how she’ll react when she sees you.

\- She’s excited? Wait, does she know I’m coming?

\- I told her I sent you a message, but I don’t know if you’ll get it. I won’t tell her you’re coming until you call me from New York. I don’t want to get her hopes up and be disappointed.

\- I’d never disappoint her. I’m coming, alright?

\- Noah, I believe that you mean it, but I haven’t heard from you in three years. I chose to be a single mother and I chose to deal with all of it alone. But even if I wanted to include you in her life, like when she asked why other kids had a mommy and a daddy and she had no daddy - I had no way to contact you. My priority is my daughter and we’re doing it my way.

He didn’t think Shelby had any idea how deep her words cut. She didn’t mean them as hurtful - but she didn’t know how many times he promised himself that no child of his would ever wonder why their daddy wasn’t there for them - the way he and Bekah always wondered. The way Beth obviously did.

\- I’m sorry, Shelby, I fucked up, again, I know. Didn’t mean to, though, you’ve got to believe me. - He paused, getting the courage to ask. - What did you tell her about me?

\- She was seven the first time she asked about her dad. I figured it was time to get the entire “you’re adopted” talk out of the way. Never meant to hide it from her, this kind of things tend to come up and explode in you face in the most unfortunate moment. So I told her she was born to a different mommy and daddy, who loved her very much and wanted what was best for her. But they were young and couldn’t really be good parents to her, so they found her a mommy that would love her the most. 

\- How did she react?

\- Well, believe me, that was one of the most stressful moments I’ve ever had. I love my daughter to pieces but she can sometimes be a little shit and I was really afraid she’d ask where this better mommy was. But she just hugged me and told it wasn’t right, because  _ she  _ loved  _ me  _ the most.

\- Wise kid. 

\- Puck, can I ask you something?

\- Shoot.

\- Have you been in the military?

\- Yeah, - he answered surprised - Did a tour in Afghanistan. Why are you asking?

\- Just wanted to know how much explaining I’d have to do. A couple of years ago I was working on a showcase with Kurt Hummel. I asked him about you. He told me Finn died and you enlisted, he didn’t know much else, so when Beth asked again where her daddy was I told her you were being a hero far far away, which is why you couldn’t call her. I remembered the lullabies you had recorded when she was little, put them on telling her it was her daddy singing just for her. That’s pretty much all she knows.

Shelby’s revelations stayed with him long after she hung up. Beth asked for him - and he wasn’t there, with no way for the little girl to contact him. He knew how it happened and why, but couldn’t help but hate himself for turning into his own absentee dad. It made him want to go to a seven-eleven and get reacquainted with his old friends: Jim, Jack and Jose.

But he didn’t.

Because to Beth he wasn’t old man Puckerman, he was Mr Hudson, a hero. Growing up with Finn, both of them without dads but for so very different reasons, he knew how much it mattered. And while knowing that made him feel better, he remembered that it wasn’t the desert that killed his best friend's dad, but the demons that came home with him. Even though Puck had his own set of demons brought from the mountains of Afghanistan, he was still fighting. He wasn’t ready to become an urn on his kid’s mantelpiece. So he made himself a cup of herbal tea. Jim, Jack and Jose would have to do without him.

Still, the whole thing pushed his fucked-up brain into overdrive. He hadn’t slept much Tuesday to Friday, waking up with every little sound, not sure where he was, ready for an attack. It happened sometimes, which was exactly why he preferred his own company these days - no one there to see exactly how fucked-up he was. And no one to get hurt, if he didn’t get his bearings fast enough.

After three sleepless nights he was about ready to pass out from exhaustion when he gave his employee the shop’s keys and got a taxi to the airport. The flight was even worse. For the last couple of years he pointedly avoided any kind of enclosed spaces, even walked half and hour to work every day and all that. But now he had to brave the plane, there was just no other way of getting from Los Angeles to New York that didn’t take forever. 

It turned out to be even worse than he expected. Not only being in a metal tube thousands of feet above ground pushed all the wrong buttons, but there were mix-ups and delays and shit, which meant he spent almost ten hours in uncomfortable seats that didn’t allow him to properly stretch his fucked-up leg. By the time he got to the hotel he was in a world of pain and seriously considered using one of the emergency syringes his doctor gave him, but he knew that playing around with serious-ass pain meds was a terrible idea for a recovering alcoholic. He popped two Ibuprofen instead and took a long hot bath. He even asked the hotel service to empty the mini-bar, feeling it wasn’t the night to even be near this kind of temptation.

Between the pain and the new place with its new sounds making his brain run in circles, unable to relax, sleep wasn’t really an option, despite his exhaustion. So he did what he usually did on the nights like this: he reached for a pencil and his notebook and started trying to put what was in his head into lyrics and melody.


	4. 4

\- Mommy, can you help me with my hair?

She had already put on her pretty blue dress and her pink shiny slippers, but she still needed her mom to braid her hair. She was gonna meet her daddy for the first time ever and she wanted to look her best. She didn’t want daddy to think she was too ugly to be his daughter. Or too ugly to take to the Father’s Day at her school. That would suck.

The doorbell rang before her mom had a chance to answer, so she put her butterfly clips in herself and went down to meet the guest.

Beth really expected the moment she saw her daddy to be something special, like from a fairy tail. But it wasn’t, not really. She went down the stairs and he was standing at the door, greeting her mom. He wasn’t as tall as she hoped he would be, his hair was short-cropped, he was wearing completely normal jeans and shirt and he looked really tired. When he noticed her he smiled, looking kind of weird, like he couldn’t believe it, but she was sure her mom had told him she would be there, so he should believe it. He brought flowers, which he awkwardly shoved at her when she reached him.

\- Hello, Beth. Nice to finally meet you. Those are for you.

So yeah, maybe she was given flowers for the first time, and she loved daisies, but he was still a strange man standing in her hallway, and she never liked speaking to strangers. 

\- Those are really beautiful. What do you say, Beth? - her mother nudged her.

\- Thank you, Mr Daddy. They are pretty.

He smiled a bit and mumbled a “you’re welcome”. Beth thought he felt really awkward, maybe worse than she did, and it made her feel a bit better.

Mom invited them to the kitchen, saying he looked hungry. She called him ‘Puck’ and it was weird, because before she had said Daddy's name was Noah. There was a bit of shuffling and soon they were all sitting at the kitchen table with a healthy serving of blackberry pancakes on each plate. Dad was asking her things, like if she liked school and who was her best friend, and her mother was giving her the look every time her answered was only one word. She wasn’t sure she liked having a daddy.

Finally they were done and after she was excused from the table she asked her mom to fix her hair.

\- Maybe I can try? - he asked - I’m sure I’m not as good as your mom, but I know how to get the Puckerman hair under control.

She nodded and led him to her room. It took him forever to get up the stairs, she hadn’t noticed before but he was walking kind of weird, like one of his legs didn’t bend properly. 

\- But I thought daddies are supposed to fix your bikes, and moms fix your hair - she said when she finally gave him her hairbrush. He laughed.

\- Yeah, maybe. But hair is more fun. Besides, it’s not like your mother doesn’t have it all under control anyway. 

She decided she may actually like her daddy. 

While he worked, she asked him how can he be so good with girly hair if he’s a boy, and he told her about his little sister, Bekah, and how his mom would always be at work, leaving him to do Bekah’s hair most days. He told her she had hair just like her, the unruly curls were a family trait every Puckerman had to learn to deal with. Only Bekah hair was dark like his was, and Beth’s hair was blond, just like her birth-mom’s. 

The Father’s Day celebration at school was nice. All of her friends were there with their daddies, and they all wanted to meet her and her daddy, but when daddies met they just started to talk about really boring things, like football or work. Listening in she learned that her daddy had a shop with music instruments, like guitars, which she guessed was kind of cool - she was sure Judy would be real jealous when she told her on Monday. Beth kept close to her daddy, not really interested in the boring conversations, but still making sure her daddy was just there. She only left his side for the showcase prepared by the school, where she had a solo, and when she finished it her daddy somehow was in the first row (she could have sworn he wasn’t there before), cheering the loudest. That was really nice too.

After their performance, it was the fathers’ turn to show off their skills, whatever they were. Some of them set up workshops fixing bikes and so on, some set up booths with handmade (or dad-made, really) stuff. A couple of men formed a band and took the stage performing cover-ups of some really old songs. After them three goofy dads of first-grade girls took over and did a mini-show of Frozen, complete with dresses and fake braids.  _ That _ was funny.

She looked at her daddy. He told her he could play guitar. Maybe he could sing for her too? It would really be something cool the other girls were sure to talk in school on Monday.

It took no more than a second before he was walking, well, limping really, toward the stage. It looked like her daddy was a sucker for the puppy eyes. Good to know.

\- Ermm… Hi, my name’s Noah and I’m Beth’s dad. This song.... Well, I guess it’s self-explanatory. - He started to sing:

_ Beth I hear you calling _

_ But I can't come home right now _

_ Me and the boys are playing _

_ And we just can't find the sound _

The song was kind of slow and kind of sad, just a man and his voice. Part of her that was raised by a professional voice coach could tell that he was quite good, that singing a song like that alone and without instruments required some skills. But mostly she was stuck on the lyrics and the longing in his voice. A moment ago he was this awkward man who could have been her father but was really just a stranger. Now there was this new kind of emotion she wasn’t sure she wanted to name.

_ Beth, I know you're lonely _

_ And I hope you'll be alright _

_ 'Cause me and the boys will be playing all night _

_ All night _


	5. 5

He arrived back at his place late on Sunday night. The apartment was dark and empty and it felt more abandoned than ever before. Even though he was never one to keep stuff for sentimental reasons and the army had taught him to keep his place clean and not to hang on to things he can’t fit in his backpack, he had never felt like he was missing something. But now there was this thought stuck in his head that he just couldn’t get rid of, a question of what would Beth see, if she ever visited. The thought was absurd, of course, because Beth was in NYC with her mom and he lived in LA, because their situation was not of the switching weekends kind and because he would never even ask for his daughter to spend a night at his place - with how his nights tended to go it was way too dangerous. But he couldn’t stop himself from trying to see his place through the eyes of a nine-years-old. Old couch, comfortable, but visibly well-used, probably could be described as dingy. Not many throw pillow or anything to built a fort. Three guitars on their stands alongside one wall. That could probably be considered cool. Big TV he used mostly to watch sports, she’d probably try to rope him into a Disney marathon and he probably wouldn’t protest too much. Miniscule kitchen with and an empty fridge. Bedroom that didn’t fit much more than a bed and a wardrobe. No pictures, no decoration. White and gray and empty. It looked like it wasn’t really a home.

With a rueful smile he took the one picture he got from Shelby and stuck it on the fridge.

Much better.

Come Monday, he decided to get back to his life. He had a job he actually liked. He had a bar he could jam at if he felt like it and a friend he could talk to at that bar. It wasn’t that bad. 

Riding the high he decided to actually go to  _ the Empty Nest _ and sing some songs that weren’t completely depressing. Later, after the thin Monday crowd went home, he spent hours talking with Jeremiah about the weekend he spent with his daughter, how he’s seen her school and took her to the zoo, showing him thousands of pictures he had on his phone Jem, in his usual grumpy way, claimed that the kid looked loud and was probably annoying little shit, if she took after her old man at all, but he never told him to stop. Puck knew that it meant the old bartender was actually happy for him. Maybe his life wasn’t that bad at all.

To meet Beth, spent the whole weekend with her, to hold her and braid her hair (her  _ Puckerman _ hair) - that was more than he ever expected to have. And he understood that it had to be enough, that it was a dream come true, not a reality, and that he shouldn’t expect either Beth or Shelby to contact him ever again. Not that the weekend went wrong in any way, but it was clear to him that the two of them were working well as a family and they didn’t need him and his issues to screw up their lives. He got to hear his daughter introduce him as her Daddy, what right did he have to ask for more?

But he didn’t have to wait more than a week for  _ Beth  _ to actually call him. She was huffy and obviously angry and admitted to having fought with her mom. Puck was at a loss, he had absolutely no idea how to deal with an angry pre-teen trying to by-pass her mother. Why couldn’t he start the parenting thing with something easier?

\- She  _ can’t _ forbid me, she isn’t even my real mom!

\- Okay, Pumpkin, I hear you, but don’t you think you are being a bit dramatic?

\- No! - She was as full of conviction as only a nine-year-old could be.

\- Alright, alright. Why do you say your mom isn’t you real mom?

\- You know why! 

\- No, I don’t.

\- She didn’t give birth to me. She isn’t really my mom - Beth answered matter-of-factly.

\- So you have to give birth to be a parent?

\- Yes! Everybody knows that!

\- Okay. So why are you talking to me? I didn’t give birth to you either.

\- That’s different!

\- No, it isn’t. Do you remember the day you were born? No? Didn’t think so. And do you remember your mom singing you to sleep when you were little? Or staying home with you when you were sick? Or making you this beautiful dress for the school play you showed me last week?

\- Mmmm - she murmured affirmatively.

\- So do you still think you mom isn’t really your mother?

\- Maybe not really… - that was as much of an admission as he was going to get. - But she still shouldn’t forbid me to go!  _ Everyone _ is coming!

He rolled his eyes, glad his daughter couldn’t see him. He had to keep his voice reasonable and fatherly, not his face. 

\- And do you think your mom has a reason she doesn’t want you to go?

After that it didn’t take him very long to get Beth to decide that the trip her classmate invited her to wasn’t really a great idea and she hated half those girls anyway.

When they hung up, after a lot of goodnights and I-love-you’s, his daughter was willing to admit she was wrong and apologize to her mom for throwing a fit. Puck felt like he had climbed Mount Everest and K2 in one go - completely exhausted, but also on top of the world.

He considered calling Shelby to give her a status update and maybe apologize for interfering, or possibly just to say thank you, but he decided it would be better if she heard of it from Beth. But there was another person he felt really grateful to for making it happen.

_ Thank you _ \- he texted Rachel, using actual words, which he didn’t do often in texts. He knew she was probably still pretty pissed about his refusal to meet her for coffee while he was in New York, but he hoped she would understand him like she always did and just know how much it meant to him.

He smiled when his cell chimed with her answer not five minutes later. He was sure it was long and had lots of complete sentences. He had missed it.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, had a bit of a writer's block.  
Thank you for the comments and the kudos, I don't usually write much, I publish even less, so they mean the world to me.

Rachel Berry was not afraid to admit that she had a tendency to meddle. But she always only had the best intentions and generally didn’t put her nose into the lives of people that really didn’t want it. Like Santanta, for example. She loved Santana, but when told in no uncertain terms that meddling will NOT be tolerated, she completely backed off. And it had nothing to do with Santana having her life more or less figured out - she hadn’t, then.

Knowing what a private person Noah tended to be, even back when they were still friends, she did her best to keep away from the entire affair. So she didn’t call him again. She didn’t ask how it was going with Beth, or what the plan was, or even what happened to him in the six years since she’d seen him. She didn’t ask any of the questions stuck in her head. She did just one thing, perfectly friendly, non-meddly at all: the Saturday he was in NYC she invited him out for coffee. By text. It took him _hours _to respond with a very short and very rude word: “No”.

Rachel knew that the 18-year-old version of her would be very dramatic about that. She and Noah had the kind of friendship where some things just didn’t need to be said or asked, which is why it would have been a major breach. She was also pretty sure that 18-year-old Noah would never say no to seeing her while he was in town. But he wasn’t a teenager anymore and neither was she. Each of them had a life and she wasn’t a part of his any more than he had been a part of hers over the six years she hadn’t heard from him.

Her life, the life of a rising Broadway star was pretty hectic, and while Rachel always preferred to keep herself busy, it was beyond what she was used to. Her show performed every night Tuesday to Saturday, with additional weekend matinees, so she didn’t have many free evenings. Adding all the rehearsals and costume adjustments that came with being a lead of a major show, all the publicity stunts the theater wanted her to do, constant after-show parties and major opening she needed to attend - she really didn't have much time to ponder old friendships. When Noah didn’t contact her again she was willing to let it go, just forget the number (even though he asked her not to). She barely had time to catch up with the friends she had now.

For some logistics reason she really didn’t care about, the Friday show that week had been rescheduled to start at six pm so she came home significantly earlier than usual. Some days she still missed the loft in Buschwick, she certainly missed the camaraderie of a shared space (without any real walls!), she missed Kurt and random visits from their high-school friends – but she did not miss the commute. It’s been years since she and Kurt decided that the time came for both of them to stand on their own two feet and part ways. She loved both Kurt and Blaine, but if she didn’t have to listen to the Klaine-revival on the other side of a thin curtain, that was just a bonus.

She threw her keys in the bowl and her purse on the table and headed to the kitchen. Her bedtime voice cords care routine didn’t lessen now that she actually sung for a living. Just as she fell into the cushions of her coach with a cup of chamomile tea with honey, she heard her phone chirp. _Thank you._

She smiled, knowing proper spelling meant Noah trying to be extra nice. She was still disappointed he didn’t want to see her, but she was also curious how his meeting with Beth went. Curiosity won.

_Good evening, Noah. Please, tell me how did your weekend go? What is Beth like? What did Shelby say? I take details as a form of gratitude!_

The next few weeks didn’t really change much in her life. The show was winding down for the summer, they were limited to three performance a week now and would soon stop playing altogether. It obviously didn’t mean she had nothing to do, especially since after a nasty fight with the director her co-star decided to look for new possibilities somewhere else. That meant they needed to re-cast and run a lot of rehearsals if they wanted to be ready to renew in the fall.

With fewer performances and fewer late nights she could spend more time with her friends. She went for a walk in Central Park with Kurt and Jimmy a couple of times and it was slowly becoming their new ritual. Kurt was working from home, taking care of the baby every day until Blaine came back from his job in an accounting firm. She knew it wasn’t easy for them, they both looked like they haven’t really slept in weeks and Kurt had obviously gave up on his rigorous skin-care regime, but they looked happy. She found that spending time with two of her oldest and closest friends (and their constantly crying baby) made her happy too.

Kurt wasn’t the only old friend she became closer with. Bekah called her at least few times a week, obviously needing female companionship and advice on the high school drama of the day. Mrs Puckerman was working as much as ever – even though Bekah mentioned her brother sending money home every week – and she was always known to overreact. Her children had learned a long time ago to tell her as little of their lives as possible.

What was the most surprising was that Noah kept in touch with her as well. Every few days she’d get a text, usually about Beth, and never properly spelled. She’d respond as soon as she could and a few times they ended up texting until the little hours. She didn’t mind though, her work by its nature didn’t require her to get up too early.

She was fairly sure Noah wasn’t sleeping much anyway.


	7. 7

When Shelby decided to adopt a baby she knew it wouldn’t always be easy, but what she didn’t expect was how challenging the logistic of nine-year old’s summer holidays could be. Beth was old enough to outright refuse to go to Shelby’s aunt’s farm in Ohio, where she spent the previous two summers, but not old enough to be left home alone for an extended period of time. There was a summer camp that solved the problem for the first two weeks of the summer, and since then she took part in a summer dance school together with her best friend Judy, but Judy was leaving for her own vacation soon and her parent wouldn’t pick Beth up from class any more.

Which is why she seriously considered Noah Puckerman’s offer to come and stay with Beth for a week or two.

After the Father’s Day reunion he kept in touch, mostly directly with Beth, but occasionally checking in with Shelby to let her know what was going on in the pre-teen’s head and to make sure she was okay with what he was telling her daughter. Part of Shelby, the part that really regretted losing touch with Rachel, was happy Beth had a good contact with her biological dad. Part of her was afraid he’d disappear of the face of Earth _again_, leaving Beth heartbroken. And a significant part was just plain jealous of the easy rapport they seemed to have. There was also not a small part of Shelby that hated to be reminded that at some point she risked her career and good name to have sex with an extremely troubled eighteen-year old, a fact she couldn’t help but be reminded of when Noah Puckerman re-entered her life.

All in all she was seriously conflicted about the whole thing, even though it would solve at least some of her problems. So she called the one person that could shed some light on the whole conundrum. 

\- Shelby, I want you to know that I grew up with two loving parents, me and my dads have always been a family, a complete one, with nothing missing. – Rachel stated after she heard what the question was about. – Still, I was about Beth’s age when I figured out I couldn’t possibly _not_ have a mother and I got curious about her. I can’t tell if it would have changed my life if you had reached out to me then, but I can tell you it would have been welcome. That’s all I know.

Shelby thought she heard a bit of regret in her voice, a regret she now shared. But when Rachel was about nine Shelby was at the high point of her career on stage and a little girl she carried and then gave up was the furthest thing from her mind.

For all the mess he tended to accumulate in his life, Noah Puckerman seemed to have grown up way faster than she had.

\- Of course he did, - Rachel agreed when Shelby voiced the thought. – Don’t forget he was the man of the house since his dad left when he was ten. He may act out and do things he later regrets, but his family can always count on him when it matters.

\- He was out of reach for over three years. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again.

\- Well, it wasn’t entirely his fault, was it? I am sure he would have contacted you if he could. I think you should trust Noah. – There was a short pause. – I always did.

They said goodbyes, with Rachel accepting invitation to step-by sometime for tea and cake. Maybe it could also become a new beginning for the two of them, but Shelby wasn’t holding her breath. Too much time had passed, too many mistakes (Shelby was aware those were her own mistakes) had been made. Rachel was a grown woman now, with no need for a mother figure, and Shelby had lost her chance.

In the following weeks she often thought about her conversation with Rachel. Not the part concerning her own relationship with her biological daughter as much as the part when Rachel expressed her faith in Puck. When she informed him of her decision and they tried to work out the details, Shelby started to seriously wonder on the nature of their relationship. On the one hand, they seemed to be good friends, with Rachel offering him a place to stay while he was in New York. Shelby knew they kept in touch and the young diva was possibly the only person he actually opened up to, so it made sense for him to stay at her place and save up on the hotel. But Puck refused Rachel’s offer, absolutely and not entirely nicely. Shelby soon found herself dragged in the middle of the drama she didn’t really understand when Rachel called asking her to convince Noah to stay with her. Or meet her at all, which also seemed to be under question. She did ask him about that when he called to give her his itinerary and hotel information and he in turn tried to downplay the whole thing, claiming he didn’t want to inconvenience her.

\- Rachel said you refused to meet her at all.

\- I didn’t _refuse_ to meet her. She’s just aiming for this big production of a reunion, and you know I’m only coming for Beth.

\- I know you’re coming for Beth. Beth knows you are coming for Beth. Doesn’t mean you can’t find time to see an old friend.

He grumbled something unintelligible, which was most likely something along the lines of ‘yeah, but’. She supposed he knew what followed the ‘but’ wasn’t convincing enough to be said out loud.

\- I can keep prying into  _ why _ you don’t want to see Rachel. I can tell Beth that you refuse to see a lady friend who came up with the whole Father’s Day thing, which you know she is a big fan of. Or you can just agree to go for a coffee with Rachel. Your choice.

\- Alright, alright, I’ll see her, God. You don’t need to threaten me with the kid.

Just to be sure, she  _ did _ mention Rachel to Beth.

The whole thing was a mess, but the fact that she had another daughter - a biological daughter that she gave up to be raised by a different family, just as Puck and Quinn had to give up Beth, was important. She refused to hide important information from her daughter. The girl took it surprisingly well, she had obviously found her peace with the whole adoption thing and accepted it as something normal, something that sometimes happened to children so they could be loved and raised by their  _ proper parents _ (Beth’s words). Shelby could also see the wheels turning in her daughter’s head once she mentioned Rachel and Noah went to the same high school and were kind of friends.

There was no way Noah wasn’t meeting Rachel now. Beth  _ loved _ fairy-tale happy endings.


	8. 8

The second time Puck boarded the plane that would take him to New York to see his daughter was nothing like the first.

To begin with, this time he didn’t have to face the unknown. Beth not only knew him now but she actually _liked_ him, which was probably the most amazing thing in the entire universe. Of course, he tended to be the cool dad, it was Shelby who had to deal with all the actual _parenting_, but he didn’t think he could ever be strict with his kid. He may have mentioned it to Bekah once and she laughed her ass of, promising it won’t be long until he attempts to send Beth to a monastery and reminding him of the one time he actually grounded his sister. Fuck that noise, those were special circumstances. Their mother always worked too much to enforce any real curfew, but when he found out his little sis was staying out late with some older girls he knew were bad news – he lost it. Bekah never really forgave him the little showdown that followed and took enormous pleasure in reminding him that Beth would be a teenager soon, but she wouldn’t live in an one-cow town where nothing shady ever happens without the Puckerone finding out by the next morning – provided he wasn’t already involved, and to be honest he usually was. No, his daughter would grow up in New York City, with its crowds of strangers and its crime rate and the millions of possible dangers that a young girl can meet in a big city, not to mention all the teenage boys trying to get under her skirt, they way her daddy always did. Puck actually made a hole in his kitchen dry-wall during this conversation, which his sister found hilarious.

But what was also different was that he wasn’t improvising the whole thing last minute and he would be staying almost two weeks. This time he had the plane booked in advance, guaranteeing a direct flight and an extra legroom sit, making it much less tortuous on his leg. He’d be staying in a hotel near Shelby’s place that would not completely ruin his finances and Shelby assured him he wouldn’t need a car but he could use hers if he did. He didn’t tell her he didn’t really like cars anymore, could never get rid of the feeling that the vehicle is about to explode, but he guessed that he would just have to deal with it if it came to that. He didn’t think he’d like the subway much more, and New York was too big to walk everywhere. He was listed at Beth dance school as a care-giver entitled to pick her up and her friends’ parents were informed he might be the one to bring her to the meet-ups, sleepovers or whatever it was nine-year old girls did together.

It was all set. He even had a coffee date with Rachel.

He had no idea if it was the relative stardom (Beth found a couple of articles on the internet and a few youtube videos promoting the show and she made Puck read and watch all of them) or if it was the biological-daughter to adoptive-mother thing, but for some reason Beth was fascinated by Rachel. Every time they talked on the phone she made him tell her stories of her, from school and from college – few of those as he knew, having lost all contact after Finn’s death her sophomore year. He found it weird but couldn’t really deny his daughter anything so he simply avoided the nasty ones and made the rest as funny as possible. She didn’t even ease up when he finally arrived in NYC. He had really hoped that when he finally sees his daughter it will be more about them then _Rachel_, but no such luck.

\- Daddy, do you know where you’ll take Rachel for your date? – She started when they were eating ice-cream in the small parlour on their way home from her dance class his first day in New York.

\- How many times do I need to tell you it’s _not_ a date? Rachel is an old friend from school. We’re meeting for a coffee to catch up. It’s as far from being a date as possible.

She rolled her eyes at him. His kid actually rolled her eyes at him, like he was completely unconvincing but she’d humor him for now. Fuck his life.

\- Oy, control your face! – He admonished, without much hope she’d listen. She was just like Quinn in this way, she really loved her little schemes and once she smelled blood she would never let go. – What’s that to you anyway? You don’t even know Rachel.

\- You are my birth-dad. She’s my mom’s birth-daughter. – She shrugged – You have to marry her and we can all be a family together, like in a fairy tale.

He had no idea how to respond to that. He loved that she still believed life could be that easy. He wanted her to keep this innocence for as long as possible, not ever having to find out life was no fairy tale. But it didn’t exactly help him get her off his case regarding Rachel.

\- I think our family is pretty awesome as it is, don’t you think?

\- Sure, dad. But it could be _perfect_.

He had no response to that, luckily she allowed him to change the subject and they discussed the dance class (_We are still doing jazz and I think it’s lame. But we’re starting hip-hop next week, so that’s gonna be cool._) and what 4th graders considered hot gossip (_Judy doesn’t believe me, but I know I’m right, Janice Moore totally _likes_ likes Jimmy Andricksen, even though she lets Henry Crowman bring her candy_). He tried to follow and he mostly succeeded: he still had no idea who Henry and Jimmy were (Beth thought they were both gross and boring, so he felt he still had some time before he would make it his business to know every boy in her life) but he knew that Judy was the best friend but Janice was the opposite – she was a total bitch and Beth hated her guts. He thought it was good enough, there was only so much that could be expected of a guy. 


	9. 9

She kind of expected him to be late, with how apprehensive he was about the whole thing, but he was already waiting for her when she arrived. He didn’t stand up when she came in, which was kind of rude, but he was Puck so she supposed he had to balance the punctuality out, and let’s be honest, societal niceties were never his strong suit. The ‘helo’s and ‘how are you’s they exchanged were kind of awkward, but she considered it normal after such a long time. Six years. It’s a miracle he even recognized her!

He had changed. Well, of course he had, they all had, it had been six years. His Mohawk was long gone and he visibly grew into a man: strong and sullen, his face a bit more drawn than it used to be and a bit less… innocent? That probably wasn’t a good word for the Puckerone, the stud of McKinley High, but it was the only one she could come up with. He was still well built but in a way that suggested more hard work and actual strength than hours spent in the weights room to impress the girls. He was sitting differently too, the relaxed, flippant stance completely gone. She remembered very well (she refused to analyze exactly _how_ well) how the Puck of old always lounged more than sat, how he swaggered through school corridors, too cool to ever be bothered with whatever bothered the losers surrounding him. Now he was sitting straight, tense and vigilant. It started to dawn on her that the man she met for coffee in central Manhattan was very different from the boy she had last seen in Lima, Ohio.

\- You know they serve coffee with Bailey’s here? – She joked when their orders were brought, a soya-milk caramel latte for her and a black coffee, decaffeinated, for him.

\- I don’t drink anymore.

She raised an eyebrow. It was hard to believe that the same boy who tended to get so drunk he thought stealing an ATM was a good idea and ended up in juvie at sixteen would give up alcohol altogether, now that he could drink legally. Still, it wasn’t like she was _against _sobriety.

\- How is Beth? – She started again.

\- Good. She is in a dance class now.

\- Does she want to be a ballerina? – She remembered herself that age, dreaming of staring in the Swan Lake, spending half her summer in the ballet studio and the other half practicing in the basement of her dads’ house. She had been overdoing it a bit, she knew, but it did pay up, didn’t it? Even if Cassandra still didn’t think she had the chops to be a dancer.

\- Nah. She’s a tomboy, really. But she kind of likes to move so she stuck with the dance class. It is more of a social event for her anyway, half the girls in her group are from her school. You wouldn’t believe the stories of Judy and Jane and _Janice_ I have to listen to every day.

\- What’s wrong with Janice?

\- Don’t get me started.

And somehow it just flew from there. He still didn’t talk to her about his own life, but he spoke a lot of Beth’s and they even exchanged notes on Bekah, who was seventeen now, starting to look at colleges. She was torn between New York, Boston and LA, with the last one leading because she could save on the housing if she stayed with her brother – which supposedly was just a _very bad idea_. Noah refused to explain why, but somewhere between complaining about how little time he could spend with Beth and Bekah’s college plans he let it slip that he considered moving to New York. It wasn’t like there was much keeping him in Los Angeles and it would make things easier. She offered to help him look at apartments and he promised to let her know the next time he was in town.

\- What about you? I hear you finally became the star you always wanted to be - he asked, probably to change the subject.

\- I wouldn’t say I’m a star yet.

\- I’ve seen you on youtube. There are _articles_ about you. You are a star.

\- You googled me?

\- Beth did. Tell me something I didn’t read in those articles she found.

So she started talking about her career, and it still was one of her favorite subjects. Noah was attentive, asked all the right questions and it was clear he read those articles.

\- Yeah, that must have sucked - he laughed after she finished the story of how she had to run half the city barefoot to avoid some photographers looking for a candid. – You were always talking of getting ready for the paparazzi, but I suppose it ain’t easy when they invade your privacy like this.

\- You have no idea.

\- Do you have a boyfriend? – She looked at him surprised.

\- Did the paparazzi put you up to that question?

\- Beth, actually.

\- Bullshit. – Now he raised an eyebrow. Well, the Rachel of old had a very strong stance about the purity of language. Rachel of Broadway, who spent most of her days listening to cast and crew communicate purely in curse words, didn’t.

\- She has this crazy idea I should marry you to bring our whole crazy family together. I seriously couldn’t tell where it came from, but she’s not letting it go.

She jokingly reminded him that they were two hot Jews and it was only natural, which in turn made him laugh and start reminiscing about their high school days, including the week they dated and the time she almost lost her virginity to him. But this road very quickly led to Finn, and that was the subject none of them was ready to discuss.

She had to get to rehearsal (more of an organizational meeting of the crew, really, considering it was the last week they were performing before summer break) so she couldn’t stay long. They exchanged goodbyes and promised to meet again, this time without her having to resort to calling Shelby _or_ Beth.

She left first, but she immediately realized she needed to use the facilities before she took the subway to the theater. He must have waited until he was sure she was gone, because when she exited the restroom area he was just leaving the café. It was a slow and probably painful process and she couldn’t tear her eyes, grateful he wasn’t likely to see her hiding behind the coat rack.

His making sure to arrive first, not standing up to greet her – it all suddenly started to make sense. He clearly didn’t want her to see him walk and she couldn’t say the lack of trust didn’t hurt.


	10. 10

The third time Noah Puckerman boarded the plane heading to New York and Beth he really hoped it would be the last. Not only was he sick and tired of being stuck in a death trap hanging miles above the ground (it didn’t matter it had been months since the last time he flew – it was still way too soon), but he had also sold most of his possessions. All he had left fit in a couple of boxes already shipped to New York and a guitar case he wasn’t leaving out of his sight. Between what he got from selling the shop and the money Jem spotted him, claiming he was the closest thing to a son he had (Puck knew for a fact that his friend had two sons and a daughter of his own but he also knew that the old grump didn’t like any of them very much), he figured he had enough to start a new business in a new city and even – if he was frugal and everything went right – to survive the first few months before he starts to earn again.

At least he was sure to have a roof over his head. He refused, of course, when Rachel first suggested he should stay with her until he finds a place of his own. She was as insistent as he was stubborn and the argument lasted weeks before she found out the real reason he didn’t want to take her couch, which was something he’d never planned for her to find out. Puck figured this would be the end of it, the offer revoked and argument won. It was just one of those things he didn’t feel comfortable sharing.

He called her once late at night and – to his surprise – she picked up. It was one of the bad nights too, when he woke up from a nightmare to the feeling of the walls closing in, with nothing there to bring relief. At least nothing that didn’t come in a bottle – and he had promised himself he wouldn’t go down that road, not again. Drowning in the panic and not knowing what to do, he called her and, thanks to the rigors of Broadway life, she had been home but not yet sleeping. She stayed on the phone with him until it was light outside, at first just making him breathe with her, then telling him of her day, sharing light-hearted stories of her fellow cast members, in the end making him talk. He spoke of things that were easy, mostly telling her funny stories of Bekah, cause that was the one relationship in his life he had yet to fuck up (at least he hoped so, he hadn’t seen his sister in five years but they still talked sometimes), and by the morning the terrible suffocating feeling was gone and he was as ready to start his day as he could be, considering he hadn’t slept more than an hour before he woke up screaming.

When she called him the next afternoon he kind of expected her to ask how he was (she was a good person, after all) but he also expected her not to bring the sleeping arrangement argument ever again. She surprised him, which – considering she still was Rachel _fucking_ Berry – shouldn’t have been all that surprising.

\- Noah, I know it’s difficult but I really think that, considering your problems, staying at a hotel could be nothing short of a nightmare. How did you deal with nights like that before?

He tried to dodge the question, but finally he found himself admitting that last night was the first time one of _those_ _nights_ didn’t end up with him demolishing a bar in a drunken rage (or, you know, just deleting the account that was his only link to his daughter before throwing the laptop out the window). From which she drew the conclusion that having somebody to talk would probably make those easier.

Then she made him admit that he hated new places, places he didn’t know and he didn’t feel safe at. She also made him admit he didn’t like being close to strangers and the thought of a cleaning crew entering his room when he was not there gave him the creeps. Using logic and his own admissions she proved to him that staying with a friend would go a long way to keep his brain from going haywire.

But it still didn’t solve the problem of what would happen when things inevitably _did go_ bad.

\- Rachel, it really means a lot to me that you want to help. But I just _can’t_ risk it. You can’t have in your home somebody that could just forget where he was and who you were. When I’m like that… I could hurt you. I’m dangerous. I can’t stay with you.

\- My bedroom has a door that locks.

\- So?

\- Your plan is to stay in a hotel, right? So basically it would be one set of locked doors between you and people you couldn’t remember even if you tried because you just _don’t know them_, they are strangers. And they would have no idea what was going on. If, as you say, you are dangerous, then you certainly can’t sleep in a hotel.

\- I don’t have a choice.

But he did and she knew it and so did he. In the end she promised to lock her bedroom _every night_ and he admitted that staying at her place would probably make things easier.

He was surprised how well it all fit.

Her apartment really was small, especially compared to the legendary loft in Bushwick she used to share with Kurt in college (he’d never seen the place but he heard of it from Finn, who mostly couldn’t get over the complete lack of real, mortar walls) but it was comfortable and it had everything they needed. The companionship was comfortable too, with shared coffee in the morning and movies watched together on the nights she wasn’t working. She took him with her when she met with Kurt for their weekly walk (and wasn’t that just awkward!) and if she didn’t have a performance he let her join him he was baby-sitting Beth in the evenings. Beth loved having them both there and made them watch all the Disney movies and sing all the song in them. She especially loved them singing the duets.

Still, Puck was determined to find an apartment for himself and soon. It wasn’t easy, ‘cause he had to be picky – no fourth floor walk-ins for him, no loud neighbors, thin walls and noisy neighborhoods. But he had a feeling that the longer he stayed the harder it would be to leave and he just couldn’t let himself get addicted to the easy companionship they had. He was better off on his own and he had to get back on with the program.


	11. 11

Since on Saturdays she usually started work even earlier than any other day of the week, Friday nights were spent at home, getting some rest. Sundays, instead, became the cast’s weekly night out and they were incredibly precious to Rachel. She was, of course, very conscious of how important the networking and team-building could be for her career, but mostly she needed the chance to just unwind. She always had a tendency to be incredibly high-strung, but as she matured she had finally understood that relaxing was just as important. So she allowed herself the Sundays, when she could have fun with her friends: laugh like she had no care in the world, dance like nobody was watching, and drink like there was no tomorrow. Rachel had asked Puck a few times to go with her, she really thought he should socialize more, but he always refused and finally she stopped asking. In a way, it made those nights easier for her, her cast-mates were giving her a hard time as it was. They knew she lived with an old friend now, a _male_ friend, and she wasn’t very successful convincing them she and Puck were _just friends_.

When she came home late enough for it to be technically Monday morning, she was a bit too drunk not to wake Noah up. Shit. Well, it was all his fault anyway. She spent a good part of the night explaining the nature of their relationship to a bunch of people who shouldn't really care, which irritated her, which made her reach for her delicious fruity drink a bit too much, which led her to drink a few delicious fruity drinks too many, which led her to stumble on her own doorstep, which led her to curse, which will now lead her to face the main subject of her friends' teasing, in her inebriated state, at 4 am. Shit, indeed. She stumbled again, this time on nothing at all, and painfully hit her elbow on the chest of drawers. There was no way Noah didn't hear _that_ but he still didn't call out to ask if she was okay.

Rubbing her hurting elbow she stepped into the living room to see if he was there. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe, there was a wall behind her back and a strong arm at her neck, cutting off the airflow. _Her voice cords!_ She tried to reach out to him, limited as her movements were, and he swiftly switched positions, pressing her face to the wall and immobilizing her arms behind her. At least now she didn't have to fear for her voice.

\- Puck? - she croaked. No reaction. - Puck, it's me, Rachel. - Still, no reaction, but she thought that was good, at least he didn't react badly. He was panting hard, like he wanted to say something, or his panic made it hard to breathe. - Noah, it's me, Rachel Berry. Noah, you know me, you remember me from back home, I was the diva of Lima, Ohio, remember? We had some good times with New Directions, didn’t we? – The hand holding her arms together loosened, but she wasn’t sure she was allowed to move. She kept rambling. – We were all such teenage drama queens, weren’t we? Well, at least I was, you were the Puckerone. But we were all good friends. I miss it, sometimes. Do you miss it? Is so hard to keep in touch now, but we went to see Kurt and Blaine last week, that was nice. They have a baby now, it’s so weird. Of course not as weird as seeing you with Beth, you two are so similar it’s creepy.

\- Rachel? – he whispered, letting her go completely and stepping back a few paces. – Where are we?

She turned around, very slowly, and looked at him. His eyes still had the panicky shine and he was sweaty and shivering, breathing hard. _One of_ _those nights_, she guessed.

\- We are in New York, in my apartment. You are staying with me until you find something for yourself. I was out with some friends and you must have had a bad night.

She saw in his face the dawning comprehension. His panic receded but a new fear showed in his eyes. He looked at her arms, where a shadow of a bruise started to form, then at her throat, He swallowed hard, turned on his heel and run out into the dark.

He didn’t come back that night. She spent it waiting, sipping herbal tea and pondering on everything that happened last night. She blamed herself, for leaving him alone just to party, for getting stupidly drunk, for not paying attention. She wondered if there were signs when she was leaving, signs she missed. Could she have known it would be a bad night? Could she have played it better? Maybe she should have reacted differently, she probably shouldn’t have spooked him carelessly or maybe assured him quicker. So that he wouldn’t feel so threatened. So that he wouldn’t feel the need to run from her.

He didn’t come back the next day either. She barely left the apartment, crazy with worry, but she had to get some groceries or they would have nothing to eat. When she returned, she noticed that his phone and wallet were gone. She checked on the small green bag in the back of a wardrobe he believed she didn’t know about – it was gone too.

He had his phone now, so she called him. He didn’t pick up, sent her a text instead. _Sorry, I should have known better. You’ll be safer when I’m gone_. Full sentences, properly spelled. She wondered how long he thought about this message.

_Noah, I know you would never hurt me_, she answered, because it seemed important, but he didn’t write back.

Throughout the day she continued to send him texts, trying to convene understanding, assurance and trust. He didn’t answer. By nightfall she got angry. _Face me like a man. It’s the least you could do after you attacked me in my own home._ She regretted it immediately, send a couple more messages apologizing and explaining how she didn’t blame him. No answer. Maybe it didn’t really matter what she wrote, maybe he wasn’t getting her texts or he just refused to read them. By this point, she had sent so many messages it really was pathetic.

It took him a week to reach out to her. She left him an embarrassing number of voice messages and her texting was beyond frantic, but she didn’t care. He was in a bad shape when he left, he had nowhere to stay and she hadn’t heard from him in five days. What was worse, Shelby and Beth hadn’t heard from him either. Rachel just needed to know he was alive and safe. She barely slept until Friday, when he finally texted her “_m ok got a place sry 4 b4”_ and she could rest.

He needed a few more days to ring her doorbell. Standing at her door he looked even worse than he did that night, in the throes of a panic attack. It was obvious he didn’t sleep much, if at all.

\- You are right, Rachel, I should face you like a man, - he said instead of a greeting. – I’d say I’m sorry but it doesn’t even begin to cover it.

She had no idea what to say, what to do. She was so worried and now here he was, alive and well, so she did the only thing that felt natural right then: she hugged him. He was stiff, obviously surprised. Maybe she shouldn’t have done it, maybe it was another mistake. She was pretty sure in cases like this you should be really careful about physical contact, probably surprising him wasn’t a good idea either, oh goodness, what had she done?

It took him just a couple of heartbeats to hug her back.


End file.
